


Obscenity

by isilya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fingerfucking, First Time, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-01
Updated: 2007-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isilya/pseuds/isilya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luna Lovegood knows obscenity when she sees it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obscenity

Ginny Weasley has exceptional breasts. Luna hasn’t seen all that many to compare them to, but she’s quite, quite sure that breasts as perfectly formed as Ginny’s are a once in a generation kind of deal.

Even though Ginny and Luna don’t speak much these days, Ginny’s breasts are hard not to notice — Ginny likes to skip underwear and her nipples are almost always visible under the worn-soft material of her robes. 

One Tuesday afternoon, the new DADA professor puts a stop to that, slapping Ginny with a detention for indecent exposure, reading her a sizzling lecture about appropriate feminine modesty and docking ten points from Gryffindor. Ten points, for showing cloth covered nipples when Leroy Fitzpatrick had just the week before lost only five points for hexing a first-year. Ginny goes from being the queen of the school to the butt of every lewd joke as news of the reprimand spreads. Someone malicious sends the news to Ginny’s mum, and Luna hears that Ginny receives a howler that leaves her in angry tears all weekend. 

Luna starts leaving off her own underwear but nobody notices: Luna’s breasts are little more than almost imperceptible curves, pale aureolae and tiny nipples, interrupted with lines of ropey scar tissue. And Luna’s robes are thick Scottish wool, purchased new at the beginning of term because her old robes were scorched, torn and bloodied — even if she were impressively endowed, she doubts they'd have the same effect as Ginny Weasley’s threadbare hand-me-downs. 

However, Luna does get into some trouble of her own. She is summoned to Professor Flitwick’s office. Professor Flitwick is nervous as he offers her a cup of tea and asks her to sit down. Luna notices him touch a scar on his forehead while he bustles about: a little of the curse that had split open her chest last year had managed to splash past and hit him too. 

“Good evening, Professor,” she says, accepting a biscuit.

“Good evening, Miss Lovegood,” Professor Flitwick replies, rubbing his forehead in a way that makes Luna think of Harry Potter. “I’ve asked you to come here this evening so we can discuss your, er, paintings.”

“You’ve never seen my paintings,” Luna says. “I don’t think we can discuss them if you’ve not seen them. I’ve seen them, obviously, so I can talk about them, but I’m not sure if that qualifies as discussion.”

Professor Flitwick coughs. “Well, that is to say, we have received some concerning reports about them. Reports of obscenity, that sort of thing.” He coughs again and Luna wonders perhaps if the pixie dust in the room is bothering him.

“Obscenity?” she asks gently. “I’ve painted pictures of my friends and my father.”

Professor Flitwick’s brow furrows and he leans in toward her. “You painted a picture of your father in the final battle.”

“Yes,” Luna says. “Though you’ve never seen the painting.”

“Your father was —” Professor Flitwick breaks off and stares up at the ceiling.

“Oh Professor, this is a horrible task, isn’t it? You don’t really want to talk to me about my paintings and you suspect I might be crazy.” Luna pats Professor Flitwick’s knee. “My father was torn apart by werewolves in the final battle. And I paint my father, yes. I’m disturbing people, aren’t I?”

Professor Flitwick nods and looks anxious.

“Miss Lovegood,” he says. “Nothing could be more commendable than your bravery and courage on that horrible day. But there is talk of sending your paintings to the Aurors as, perhaps, evidence of an unstable mind.”

“They are afraid of the paintings,” Luna muses. “Perhaps they are right to be. Words have power, and a picture is worth a thousand words. ”

“Miss Lovegood!” Professor Flitwick reprimands. “I hoped you would see reason. In any event, I am to inform you that all of your paintings of the war have been confiscated.”

“Ah.” Luna ponders for a moment. “Well, I am quite used to things being taken from me. Goodnight, Professor.”

She pauses in the doorway as she leaves. 

“Will you see the paintings?” she asks softly.

“No.” Professor Flitwick looks tired. “I have no wish to look at them.”

“Because you don’t like art?”

“No! Miss Lovegood, I am told that your paintings are obscene.”

“But you have not seen them.”

“No. I have not, and do not intend to.”

Luna smiles sadly. “Goodnight, Professor. ”

“Goodnight, Miss Lovegood.”

***

She returns to the dorm to find that all her canvases are gone. They have however left her her paints, her tubes of oils and water-colours, and her paintbrushes. Luna transfigures one of her socks into a new canvas and thinks about what to paint next.

***

“Hello Ginny,” Luna says, sitting down on the grass next to Ginny. Ginny looks up in surprise.

“Hello Luna,” Ginny says. “Er, look — I’m expecting –” 

Luna watches as Ginny twists around to look for someone. In the distance, Dean Thomas from Gryffindor is coming down the steps. Ginny waves at him and he waves back. Luna can tell Ginny is wearing a bra. She thinks it is a shame. Ginny looks harder and more rigid these days than she used to. 

“I’d like to paint you,” Luna says. “Your breasts, especially, but all of the rest of you as well.”

Ginny flushes an angry dark red. Her eyes narrow and she crosses her arms. “Bitch!” she spits out. “I didn’t think you’d –”

“No. ” Luna smiles encouragingly at Ginny. “I’m not being unkind, I think you’re beautiful and would like to paint you. You’d be magnificent nude.” 

“Nude!” Ginny squawks, uncrossing her arms to press her hands to her red cheeks. 

“Who’s nude?” Dean Thomas says, plopping down on the grass and throwing his arm around Ginny. “Hello, Loony. Nice earrings.”

“Hello Dean Thomas,” Luna replies politely. “I’ll be in the Room of Requirement tomorrow afternoon, Ginny.”

“I have Quidditch practice, ” Ginny says. She looks flushed and confused. 

“I’ll wait,” Luna says, and gets up to leave. 

“What did Loony want?” She hears Dean Thomas say. 

“I’m not sure.” She hears Ginny reply softly. 

***

Luna prepares three shades of cream, four of peach and a delightful violet tint for shadows. She is dreamily swirling together red and yellow and brown to make autumnal tints of auburn and chestnut and ginger when Ginny Weasley bursts through the door. 

Ginny has a faint sheen of sweat on her brow and a magnificent post-Qudditch glow. 

“Luna,” she blurts out, then sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I have no fucking idea why I’m here.”

“Yes you do,” Luna says, “You’re gorgeous, and you want to be painted like this, as a beauty. ”

Ginny’s mouth twists into rueful half-smile. “You make me sound like a stuck-up cunt.”

“Ginny, it’s a miracle you survived the war. That you survived it beautiful is an even greater one.”

“I don’t…”All Ginny’s bravado deserts her in a rush, Luna watches her shoulders slump. “I don’t feel — good looking. And even if I am, it hasn’t done me any good.” 

Luna supposes Ginny means Harry Potter breaking up with her, or perhaps she’s referring to Professer Armitage calling her a trollop in front of the class. What Luna knows is that the image of Ginny battling Bellatrix Lestrange, screaming and throwing curses, and blazing with beauty, is just about the only thing that can blunt the memory of her father being dismembered by werewolves not ten feet away from her. 

“You’re _not_ good-looking,” Luna says scornfully. “What a ridiculous idea.”

Ginny gives a little startled laugh, and Luna grins at her and jerks her head toward the couch she has set up. Even though it is mid-afternoon, the Room has helpfully provided wide windows looking out onto very early morning. Dawn, really. The light is exceptional. 

“I just get my kit off?” Ginny asks, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Won’t you be scandalised? Oh wait, no, I forget I’m talking to Luna Lovegood. I don’t think you’ve ever been scandalised in your life.”

Luna holds her breath and Ginny begins to undress, pulling off her Quidditch boots, dropping pieces of her uniform in an untidy pile. When she is down to her bra and knickers she gives Luna a rueful look. Luna does not avert her eyes, and Ginny licks her lips and quickly undoes the clasp. 

“Oh my,” Luna cannot help saying. 

Ginny looks down at her own chest and grins. “Actually, I do think these are pretty bloody fabulous, though I say so myself.” 

Luna cannot take her eyes off Ginny Weasley’s perfect breasts.

“Knickers too?” Ginny asks, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underpants. 

Luna nods, and Ginny bends to slide them down her legs, kicking them free with one foot. Now Ginny is naked she seems much more comfortable, as though she has shed her tension with her clothes. Luna directs her to the couch and arranges her, stretching her out so that her lean limbs are in perfect contrast to the lushness of her breasts, hips and hair. 

Luna begins to paint. 

“I’m sorry, you know. I don’t know if I ever said. About your dad, I mean,” Ginny says abruptly. 

“We weren’t close friends, I did not expect your condolences.” Luna marks in the squiggle of Ginny’s ear. “I didn’t send you any for your brother either.”

Ginny’s chest heaves for a moment. It causes a ripple through the flesh of her breasts. Luna catches the moment with a quick enchantment, so that her painting’s breasts will also have an agreeable jiggle. 

“You’re so strange,” Ginny finally says. She is pointing and flexing her toes a little. “You’re not like anybody else I know. I don’t even think you like me, and yet here I am, stark naked in front of you.”

Luna considers for a moment. Does she like Ginny Weasley? Luna likes black-currant tea, writing Letters to the Editor (or replying to them), and choral music. 

“Does it matter to you?” Luna asks.

Ginny is silent for a moment. Then: “Yes,” she says quietly. “Yes it does.”

“It matters,” Luna says, “because I think you’re beautiful, and you want me to keep on thinking you’re beautiful.”

Ginny bites her lip. “You say that I’m… beautiful… but I don’t know if you like me, sometimes you make me feel like I’m not a nice person.”

“I don’t think you are a nice person,” Luna pauses. “I don’t think that _I_ am a nice person.” Luna lays down her paintbrush and her wand and approaches the couch. “Just because something is not _nice_ does not mean it is not desirable, or delightful or worthy.”

Ginny looks up at her with big eyes. She is trembling a little. Luna kneels down next to the couch and places a tiny kiss on the inside of Ginny’s wrist. Ginny shivers. 

“I saw you throwing curses, and I saw you throwing punches, and I saw Bellatrix Lestrange coughing blood because of you. I don’t think you are nice, I think you are magnificent. And,” Luna kisses Ginny’s collarbone, “just now, I think you are obscene, and you are beautiful.”

A tear leaks out of Ginny’s eye and Ginny turns her mouth to Luna’s a little desperately. Ginny’s mouth is warm and open and Luna kisses and kisses her until they are both panting and rubbing against each other. 

Ginny’s breasts are even better up close. They are deliciously soft, and pink-nippled, and sprinkled with freckles. Ginny moans as Luna closes her mouth over one. Ginny’s skin is sharply salty. Luna sucks the nipple into her mouth, rubs it with her tongue and skims her fingers over the other breast, making Ginny squirm and rock against her. Luna kisses circles around Ginny’s other breast, tiny, light kisses, before being unable to resist sucking on that nipple too.

Luna rubs the heel of her hand between Ginny’s legs and grins at the filthy curses that pour out of Ginny’s mouth. She slides down the couch and parts Ginny’s thighs — they glisten in the dawn light, but not as much as the sticky moisture between them. Luna has never done this before, except in her imagination, with her fingers furiously working between her own legs. But she’s practised it enough times in her head that she knows exactly what to do, pushes Ginny’s legs further apart and leans in to lick with a broad, flat tongue. 

Ginny wails on every upstroke. Luna hooks Ginny’s legs over her shoulders to keep them spread, freeing up her hands. Her finger slides into Ginny’s cunt with incredible ease; Ginny is wet and hot and — Luna is surprised to discover — also a virgin. She feels the resistance as she tries to push in a fourth finger, and Ginny yells out as something suddenly gives. 

Luna keeps lapping, increasing the pressure and the pace, never backing off, hanging on through Ginny’s panting and bucking and clenching thighs. She keeps on stroking Ginny with her tongue, through some truly heartfelt keening, through a series of shocky little spasms, until finally Ginny cries stop and reaches down to push her away. Then Luna grins at a job well done and backs off, wiping her face on her robe. 

“Nnngh,” Ginny mumbles, ‘Let me…” Ginny makes a valiant effort to sit up, but Luna pushes her back down. 

“Hush,” she says. “Stay here for me. I want you just like this.”

“Hmm?” Ginny’s eyes droop shut. 

“Just like that,” Luna says, and gets up, a little unsteadily. She moves back to her painting, leaning on the easel for a moment to catch her breath. 

In front of her lies a thoroughly debauched Ginny Weasley. Her thighs are wet and faintly stained with blood, there are love-bites on her breasts and neck. Her nipples are glossy and swollen. She is absolutely magnificent and absolutely obscene. 

Luna picks up her paintbrush and wand. 

She begins to paint.  


**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Pornish Pixies’](http://community.livejournal.com/pornish_pixies/) [The Internet is for Porn](http://community.livejournal.com/pornish_pixies/460840.html) challenge, celebrating the community’s return after Strikethrough ’07.


End file.
